The Crossing
by Tic-Tac2
Summary: :Based on the idea of "alternative reality": Follow two realities after a trivial event causes Elizabeth McGuire's life to change dramatically... (explanation inside) L/G? Sometimes. Please R&R!
1. Chapter one

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire, Disney, or the actors and actresses. But, I *do* own this storyline! Hahahaha… Omg! I think it's original! Oh joy! **

**Explanation for Rating (PG-13): I decided on this rating to make it safe. I seriously, seriously doubt there will be sex, but there might be language (if I can… I have a program that doesn't allow me to use curse words…). Also, it's rated like that because it *will* be confusing in some parts (to some people). And of course, violence is another factor. Attempted rape, or mugging, possibly. Just be prepared. This is not going to be a fluffy, cute, happy story, though some parts of it might. Oh yes, and before I forget, this will be L/G – in a way. And in a way, it won't be. Cheers! **

***Sigh* This is another one of my weird, scientifically-thinking stories. To all the people who liked my other story, "Blow Against the Wind", I believe you will think this one just as good, or better. This story will follow two people: these two people are exactly the same person, but are different because of one single occurrence… one girl is affected by what I call "alternative reality". Confusing? Go ahead and read the explanation…**

**Explanation: This story (like "Blow Against the Wind") is going to be full of twists and turns. Before I try to explain my thinking, I might clear it up for some people by saying this story is going to be based on the idea of "alternative reality", which is shown in two movies (that I know of) called "Run, Lola, Run" and "Sliding Doors". I've never seen "Run, Lola, Run", but my dad explained it to me, and I enjoyed the idea. For some of those people who are still confused (or haven't seen the movies), do this: imagine waking up in the morning, taking a shower, and going down to breakfast. Your mother (or father) gives you a choice of either having orange juice or milk. You pick orange juice. Now, stop everything. Right there, you've already had a choice. Life is full of choices, and scientists are still wondering if there actually is an "alternative reality" for every choice you make. I mean, what could've happened if you picked milk to drink? Could you end up in the hospital? Could you sponsor a famous movie star? Could you ****become a celebrity? No one knows. This story is based on one trivial event that happens to changes the main character's life dramatically…**

**Enjoy, and hope that clears it up for you! Oh, and watch those movies – they are wonderful, and very interesting. ^_^**

**~Tic-Tac**

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                                                                        _The Crossing_

                                                                        Written by Tic-Tac

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~ June 13, 1991 – 1:02(pm) ~  

Jo McGuire reached out towards her keys, coffee in hand. Upon hearing her, a small dog jumped from its bed (laid down neatly in the corner) and ran manically towards the car keys. It's miniature claws clicked across the linoleum floor as it skidded and slid towards its destination. Suddenly, it jumped up and grabbed the shiny silver keys, shaking its head as it landed on the floor.  

"Bad dog! Bad dog! Give Mommy the keys…" Jo slowly reached towards the hyper Jack Russell terrier, a smile plastered on her face. "Okay… come here," she cooed. The dog just grinned in its doglike way, and ran around in circles, growling ferociously at the keys that it had in a vice-like grip between its teeth. Jo turned to her 4-year-old daughter, who was wide-eyed with fascination.

            "Honey, go to the car. I've got this under control…"

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* June 13, 1991 – 1:01(pm) *

            Jo reached out towards her car keys, coffee in hand. Upon hearing her, a small dog jumped from its bed (laid down neatly in the corner) and ran manically towards the car keys. Its miniature claws clicked across the linoleum floor as it skidded and slid towards its destination. Jo rolled her eyes, grabbed her keys off the hook, and held them above her head disdainfully.           

"Ready, Sweetie?" she asked. The little girl nodded her head and ran to her Jack Russell terrier, which was almost hyperventilating as it watched the keys in Jo's hand reflecting the light. It panted and whined, but to no avail. The little girl wrapped her arms around the dog in a bear hug, and kissed its burgundy-tinted forehead. Jo smiled lovingly, and slipped her hand into her daughter's.

            "C'mon Elizabeth, we need to go…" Jo said lightly, but still firmly. The little girl grinned, and squeezed her mother's hand tightly.

            "Okay!"

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~ June 13, 1991 – 1:14(pm) ~

            Jo clutched the steering wheel between her hands, mumbling profanities under her breath. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the honking of the other cars, the large, earth-shattering thunder of the airplanes, and most of all, the consistent blinking of the digital clock on the dashboard, constantly reminding her that she was late for her first day of volunteer work at a daycare in Hillridge. She was supposed to show up – she was expected to.

            Jo was broken out of her reverie by a sudden squeal from her daughter. She had, for the past quarter of an hour, been reciting part of the alphabet. But now, she just squealed, and Jo turned around quickly, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. She sighed.

            "What is it, Honey?"

            "Mommy, I –." Suddenly, the little girl's eyes widened, and her mouth opened slowly in a silent scream. Aghast at her daughter's expression, Jo turned around to face the road and let out a blood-curdling shriek. Heart pounding, she slammed her foot on the breaks, just as a girl, wrapped up tightly in a black coat, dashed across the street. As the car skidded to a stop, Jo leapt out of the vehicle and ran to the girl, who seemed unhurt, but, as Jo realized, probably terrified. Jo could see her huddled on the ground, clutching her knees. Before Jo could reach the young woman, a crowd formed around her, trying to comfort and reassure her. Jo saw a man help the young woman off the slick ground. Still shaken and unable to think clearly, Jo made her way back to her car, breathing heavily with fright.

            The girl's running figure was etched permanently into her mind.

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* June 13, 1991 – 1:13(pm) *

            Jo clutched the steering wheel between her hands, mumbling profanities under her breath. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the honking of the other cars, the large, earth-shattering thunder of the airplanes, and most of all, the consistent blinking of the digital clock on the dashboard, constantly reminding her that she was late for her first day of volunteer work at a daycare in Hillridge. She was supposed to show up – she was expected to.

            Jo was broken out of her reverie by a sudden squeal from her daughter. She had, for the past quarter of an hour, been reciting part of the alphabet. But now, she just squealed, and Jo turned around quickly, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. She sighed.

            "What is it, Honey?"

            "Mommy, I forgot what comes after K! What comes after K, Mommy?" Jo smiled to herself as she turned around, keeping one focused eye on the road.

            "L, Sweetie, the letter L." The little girl grinned toothily, and fingered the fabric on her flowered blouse.

            "L! L for lion, L for lollypops, L for lights…" she sang. Jo was concentrating on the road ahead, and didn't even notice as her daughter jumped around in her car seat, making herself giggle noisily. The sky was clear and blue, the birds were singing, the summer breeze was warm, and Jo was _almost _going to make it to the daycare on time.      

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~ June 13, 1991 – 1:17(pm) ~

            "Oh-my-God, oh-my-God…" Jo rambled, biting her lip. Her daughter's soft blue eyes stared through her.

            "Mommy –,"

            "Not now!" Jo snapped, shaking from head to toe. Gulping down tears, she turned the key forcefully in the ignition, and the car started up again. Trying to ignore the constant screeching of the tires that was playing over in her head, Jo pressed a sweaty palm to her forehead.

            She almost killed that girl.

            The girl was almost killed.

            Jo McGuire almost killed a young woman.

            As Jo pressed her foot down on the gas pedal, the car lurched forward, and stopped. Jo could see smoke billowing out from under the hood. Hot tears stung the side of Jo's eyes. The squealing of brakes, the girl on the ground… it was fast forwarding and rewinding over and over in her mind. From the car seat behind her, Elizabeth gave a small whimper. Guilt flooded through Jo as she opened the door and walked to the front of the car, carefully opening the car hood. Groaning, Jo looked at the damage.

            "Damn!" She coughed as a gray cloud of smoke embedded her. Waving it away with her hand, she looked inside. "Radiator's overheated," she muttered.

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* June 13, 1991 – 1: 16(pm) *

"Mommy! Mommy! We're here!" little Elizabeth cried, jumping up and down enthusiastically. Jo grinned.

"Hey, hey, Sweetheart. Calm down! I'll get you out in a second."

The little girl stopped jumping, but she kept quivering in excitement. She saw across the road, past all the cars, at a small meadow, will children (all her age), sitting cross-legged on the grass, listening to who had to be the adult in charge. She wanted to be part of the fun! Her eyes scanned over her peers, and she giggled in excitement.

Jo came around the side of the car, carrying her purse, and unbuckled her daughter from the car seat. Holding her keys in her mouth, Jo picked up Elizabeth and held her in one arm, while shutting the door. She then took the keys out of her mouth and locked the car quickly. Then she started to walk over to the small meadow in a hurried pace. Soon she was running.

When she reached the daycare area, Jo bent over and put her daughter on the ground.

"I'm really sorry, Jen," she told one of the adults earnestly. "Sam…things came up… I'm really sorry…" She gasped, holding a stitch in her side.

Jen smiled. "It's fine. We haven't even started anyway. Our face-paint hasn't come yet… oh! There he is!" She waved at a navy blue Volkswagen Beatle. "My husband," she added, "is always late."

Jo smiled, trying to hide the relief that spread across her face.

Elizabeth wandered over to the circle of children, looking over them with a grin on her face. Most of them were laughing and giggling together, or making faces at the adults. The only person doing this was a small boy sitting at the back of the circle, his eyes focused at the front, his chin resting on his hand. Elizabeth looked around, saw he was with no one else, and skipped over to him. His surprised eyes followed her all the way. When she plopped down next to him, his eyes darted every which way as if he were nervous. Elizabeth grinned.

"I'm Elizabeth!" she cried enthusiastically. 

            The boy, frightened by this energetic girl, only could stutter, "David Gordon."

            Elizabeth smiled zealously, but then frowned. "D-D-Dave-?" She shook her head and thought for a second. "Gordon? Gordo? Gordo's better."

            David shook his head. "My name's Gordon."

            "Gordo," Elizabeth told him firmly. "You're Gordo."

            David, now known as Gordo by this strange girl, smiled for the first time since he came to the daycare. "Fine. You're… Lizzie."

            She hugged him quickly. "Lizzie's good."

            They smiled at each other, and hugged again.

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~ June 13, 1991 – 1: 32(pm) ~

            "Is it safe to drive?" Jo asked, standing up. The technician nodded.

            "A few wires were out of place, and the radiator was overheated… but otherwise, your car is fine, ma'am." He took off his leather gloves and tucked them under his arm. "Do you have money with you?"

            Jo sighed. "Not enough."

            The technician shrugged. "I'll send you the bill in the mail. Enjoy your day." With that, he hopped into his truck, and drove off, leaving Jo feeling tired, and grumpy.

            "Just perfect," Jo muttered, going back to her car. Elizabeth was still inside, fast asleep, her thumb stuck halfway into a corner of her mouth. Jo smiled, and immediately felt bad for letting out her temper on her. With a finger, she tucked the little girl's thin blonde hair behind her ear.

            "Sorry, Sweetheart…" she whispered. With a depressed groan, she lowered herself into the driver's seat and started the car. Thankfully, it started up without a problem, and Jo pulled out her cell-phone. She dialed, watching her daughter in the back seat.

            "Yeah. Hi Jen. It's Jo… uh-huh… well, I'm really sorry, but I can't come today. Yeah. Total chaos. Oh, I know. I was looking forward to it, too! I'm really sorry… yeah. Okay. See you later. Bah-bye."

            Jo smiled once more at her daughter, and began the drive home.

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**A/N: **Hello! How is it? Interesting? Don't worry, it will get interesting if it's not now! 

Have fun reading, and please, please, please review! I hope I made everything clear at the beginning! ^_^

O yeah, and review my other stories, too! You know you want to!

See you guys later ~

Tic-Tac                                                


	2. Chapter two

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Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I really enjoyed reading them. You're wonderful! I just love you all! Oh… and I'm extremely glad that everyone understands where I'm taking this. To make it easier to understand for the rest of the story, the two realities are going to be titled simply either "Lizzie" or "Beth". Savvy? Good. Now, on with the story!

And remember, the 'Lizzie' reality takes place one minute _before_ the 'Beth' reality.

I have *no* idea what the teacher's names' are, so just bear with me. I'm making them up.

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= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Lizzie = = = * * = = = =

            "Okay, this is what I think," Lizzie said ecstatically to her friends' Gordo and Miranda, "Ethan Craft comes through this door, and I drop my pencil…"

            "… Accidentally on purpose," Miranda added. Gordo rolled his eyes, and hid a sarcastic laugh beneath an encouraging smile. Miranda glared at him, and pursed her lips. Her eyes expressed annoyance as she waited eagerly for Lizzie to continue.

            Lizzie nodded, oblivious. "Then, he picks it up for me, and I thank him _expressively_."

            "Expressively is good," said Miranda, nodding her head amenably.

            Gordo mumbled, "_Dramatically_ is more like it…"

            "Then," Lizzie grinned brightly and flailed her arms excitedly, "I ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance!"

            "He's bound to go with you, Liz! The plan's flawless!" Miranda praised. Gordo just sighed.

            Lizzie peered at him. "Gordo? Do you think it'll work?"

            "Yeah, of course it will. It's just…" Gordo trailed off, feeling sick to his stomach. The nausea swirled in his head and stomach. He buckled over, grabbing his abdomen. Lizzie moved closer to him, looking like she wanted to comfort him, but Miranda held her back. "Er… guys, I have to go. I don't feel too hot." With a little groan, he ran to the boy's bathroom as fast as his legs could carry him. The two girls looked at each other, each expressing the same look in their face: pity.

            Feeling sick just thinking about Gordo and his predicament, Lizzie turned to the door behind her and frowned. "I-I'm going to go to class… are you coming?"

            Miranda shrugged and leaned casually on a locker. "I'll wait here." She watched as Lizzie proceeded into the classroom. She waited in the same part of the hall; occasionally checking her nails and watching the large clock continue its perpetual shift. 

Soon, it was two minutes until class began. Miranda knew Gordo would never be late to class.

            She sighed, and tapped her foot on the linoleum floor. Her high-heeled leather boots produced an undying echo each time it hit the ground. "Gordo, just come out."

            She heard a little intake of breath, and some frenzied scrambling.

            "How'd you know I was there?" Gordo asked frantically, coming out from behind a door. Miranda chuckled.

            "Women's intuition."

            "Oh," said Gordo, looking skeptical. Miranda waved her hand dismissively.

            "But that's not the point, Gordo. I was doing some thinking, and…"

            Gordo interrupted, clearing his throat. "Miranda, class…" His voice was raised an octave from tension.

            "And," Miranda continued, frowning, "Isn't it funny that jealousy and nausea go hand-in-hand?"

            "Miranda…"

            "Gordo! You are so obviously jealous of Ethan Craft; it's not even funny! But, lucky for you, Lizzie's unaware of your desires…"

            Gordo gaped. "Miranda! Are you accusing me of – of liking Lizzie?" His face became contorted; scrunched and etched with worry. His eyes were shifting from Miranda's face to the hall, which was empty, except for Kate and her perfunctory posse. But they were out of earshot.

            "Save it, David. You were never good at lying." Miranda leaned coolly on the green-tinted locker, and pursed her heavily glossed lips. "Just talk to her." Her expression softened considerably as she spoke, her words full of unexpressed pride and devotion. Gordo chewed his lip absentmindedly as he listened to his friend's words. He was silent, however, as he considered his options.

            Miranda quickly glimpsed the clock, gave a thwarted sigh, and motioned for Gordo to follow her to class. He trailed reluctantly, feeling the nausea creep stealthily back into the pit of his stomach. His mellow blue orbs searched the hallway instinctively, casting and reeling in shattered images of Miranda, the walls, and suddenly… too quickly, the classroom. As if in a daze, Gordo shuffled to his seat. From across the room, Lizzie widened her eyes, inaudibly asking if he was all right, and all he could do was nod his head pathetically. Then, through the swirling mist of his mind, Gordo heard a blunt clap. He blinked his eyes, and squinted his eyes at the teacher, Mrs. Simon.

            "Okay!" She clapped her hands again and smiled brightly. Gordo rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and looked back at her quickly. She always treated the class like they were seven-years-old. "Attention, class!"

            Gordo, usually so keen to listen to the teachers, just leaned back in his seat. He was tempted to place his feet on the desk. At the front of the room, Mrs. Simon was oblivious to the obvious displeasure that rippled through the room as quickly as an unruly wildfire. "I have decided that we have learnt enough about the Pythagorean theorem, and so, that means… POP QUIZ! Take out your pencils, class." Groans erupted from the students. But, as if in a trance, they reached down into the notebooks and pried out their writing utensils. Gordo twirled the pencil in his fingers, glaring inwardly at Mrs. Simon.

            Of all the days for a pop quiz, it just _had _to be today.

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= = = * * = = = Beth = = = * * = = = =

            Beth sighed, and leaned against her locker. "If I told you once, I've told you a thousand times. Kate, purple isn't your color. It's mine." She smirked. "It brings out my eyes."

            Kate just shrugged, and sheepishly wrapped her jean coat around herself, hiding her purple top. Beth nodded.

            "Better. Claire?" Another girl peered at her questioningly.

            "What?" she asked.

            "What time is it?"

            "Four minutes until class starts, Beth."

            Beth grinned. "Great. Now," She paused dramatically, indicating the other girls to lean closer. "Remember. Next week is the Sadie Hawkins dance." There was a murmur of excited whispers. "Ask anyone you can get your paws on, but I get Ethan." Beth smiled leisurely. Behind her back, Kate frowned and crossed her arms.

            "We can start rounding up the guys during lunch," Beth added, looking smug; "We can get anyone, being the prettiest and most popular girls in school." She sighed. "I actually feel sorry for the losers that attend Hillridge." She looked thoughtful. "Actually, I _don't._" She laughed heartily, a brazen smile playing across her lips.

            Beth and her friends started off down the hall, chattering in loud, careless voices. Soon, only Kate, Claire, and Beth were left, standing outside the door to their classroom. A group of people tried to walk past them, but Beth stepped in front of the group disdainfully and crossed her arms.

            "Why don't you wait for us, losers?" she asked, narrowing her eyes, "Everyone knows we're more important anyway." Kate and Claire nodded mindlessly. The person in front, an olive-skinned, dark-haired girl, clenched her fists.

            "Listen Beth," she spat sarcastically, "We just want to go to class. I'm not in the mood for licking your shoes."

            "Um… excuse me… what's your name?"

            "Miranda," the girl told her sternly.

            "Ah. Well, Miranda, you see, this school is based on order of hierarchy, and you are right at the bottom, whilst I am at the top." Beth smiled sincerely and mockingly put a hand to her lips. "Unless, of course, you underdogs wish to move up in rank. Which, fortunately, will never happen."

            Miranda just glared. "You're a witch, Beth."

            "And you're a bitch." Kate and Claire smirked.

            From the back of her throat, Miranda made a small sound that resembled a growl. She began to move forward menacingly, but before she could walk more than two steps, a hand was placed on her arm. Miranda whirled around.

            "Stay out of this, David!" she hissed. The boy shook his head.

            "Miranda, class starts in two minutes. Do you really want to make everyone late?" David explained reasonably.

            She gritted her teeth, but sighed in defeat. "Fine…"

            David began to walk through the door to the classroom, but Beth put out an arm, blocking his course.

            "Why didn't you let her fight me, Gordon?" Beth asked, now seething mad. David fixed his gaze on her. He didn't even flinch.

            "Let me through, Beth," he said calmly. Beth stood stalk-still, her forehead creasing in anger. Suddenly, her hand began to waver.

            "I can't let you," she hissed. David stared into her icy-blue eyes.

            "Let me pass, McGuire." Beth felt like she was stabbed in the heart. She cringed, and her hand dropped to her side. The group passed into the classroom, clapping a stony David on the back. Miranda glared daggers at Beth, Kate, and Claire as she walked past. Curling her lip, Kate turned to Beth.

            "Why did you let up like that?" she asked of Beth, obviously disappointed and angry, "You had them right here! In your grasp!"

            Beth said, flustered, "I… I don't know…" She looked confused. She put a hand to her forehead and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. In addition, she was flabbergasted to find little droplets of sweat trickling down her brow. She licked her lips. "I…uh…"

            "Listen Beth, we don't want to hear it, just –,"

            "Shut up, Kate!" Beth shouted over her blazing headache. In rage, she stormed through the door and into her seat. Kate and Claire went to their assigned spots meekly, and Beth watched them with hate burning in her eyes. The intensity of her outburst had stung even herself, and she was almost afraid to talk, lest she yell again.

            This was the most horrible day she had ever had. A lowly _geek _had gotten the better of her, her friends were unsupportive and emotionless, and Mrs. Simon is assigning a pop quiz.

            Beth furrowed her brow. Where did that come from? If there werea pop quiz today, Mrs. Simon wouldn't have told the class, would she? Beth shook her head. No, she was just rambling in her head.

            "Okay!" Mrs. Simon called from the front of the room. She clapped her hands together. "Attention, class!"

            Beth felt her eyes closing.

            "I have decided that we have learnt enough about the Pythagorean theorem, and so, that means… POP QUIZ! Take out your pencils, class." Beth's eyes snapped open. Pop quiz? What? How…?

            Shaking, Beth reached into her notebook and pulled out a pencil. "It's just déjà vu…" she whispered to herself. "Just déjà vu…"

            As she began the test, she frowned and stopped her pencil. "But I've never known déjà vu to tell the future," she said softly to her test. Then she laughed. "I really am crazy! I'm talking to a piece of paper!"

            Mrs. Simon raised her eyebrows furtively at Beth. Sheepishly, she continued to work on the quiz.

Wow! My longest chapter yet! …lol… Well, actually, this is only the second chapter, so it doesn't really count, eh? ^_^ Whatever. Hope you enjoyed. And, more good stuff in the next chapter (of course)!! Please review; I really, really, really love reviews. *grins*

catch ya on the flip side!

*Tic-Tac*


	3. Chapter three

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Author's notes: Now, whom shall I thank first? You guys are awesome, reviewing this story. I know it's probably confusing some of you (maybe)… but I'm really glad that you are enjoying it (or at least I hope so! *grin*) I really like to write this. It's different from *anything* that I've ever read or written (and I've read a lot). But, I think all of you will be surprised where I'm going to take this. *Winks at Em* BATW is as similar to this story as it's going to get. And *that's* not really even that comparable…

Does everyone understand this? (Just to make sure) The thing that's different between the two realities is: Lizzie and Gordo are friends, or they are enemies. So, the realities are going to be freakishly similar, yet in the same way, dreadfully different.

And, Kobe-Mac, Pirates of the Caribbean was incredible! I loved it! Johnny Depp was amazing. And savvy is a spiffy word. I love using it. Savior-faire. ^_^

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= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Lizzie = = = * * = = = = 

Lizzie plopped on her couch and sighed, sitting Indian style next to Gordo. "I am seriously not happy with teachers right now!" She frowned. "I mean, c'mon! Pop quiz? I am sure to fail. I knew _nothing _on the Pythagorean theorem. Nothing."

             Gordo laughed. "You have to know something, Liz." His tone was supportive, but Lizzie didn't trust his judgment in the least. Grinning good-naturedly, she whacked him with one of the pillows lying next to her on the couch.

            "So says the man who _befriended_ Larry Trudgeman, and hung out with him for a week!"

            "So says the woman who _dated _Larry Trudgeman, and admitted that he was an okay guy!" retorted Gordo smugly, crossing his arms. Lizzie raised her eyebrows, and shrugged sheepishly.

            "That's not fair," she said pathetically. But, the corners of her lips were twitching. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "Hey! Gordo! I just realized! You're feeling better!" Her voice became hushed. "Did you throw up?"

            A subtle blush crept across his face. "Uh… I… didn't throw up…" he started. "Er… Why don't we… watch a movie?" Quick as a flash, he jumped up. Too hurried was his haste. He almost tripped over his feet; in embarrassment, he staggered to the shelf, trying to explain his sudden lunging.

            Lizzie just smiled. "Gordo, you're acting really weird. Are you okay?"

            "Yeah. Just fine!" he chimed, shuffling blindly through the movies. "Actually, better than fine!"

            "Oh," Lizzie said, raising her eyebrows, "For a second, you were klutzy. And that's _my _limelight. Don't steal it, Gordo." She grinned, and he laughed awkwardly.

            "What do you want to watch, Liz?" he asked, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

            She shrugged. "Titanic? I don't know."

            "Sure. Why not." Gordo pulled out the first tape and urged it into the VCR. Lizzie grinned at him.

            "Your turn to get the popcorn!"

            He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Actually, it _was_ Miranda's turn."

            "But Miranda isn't here, is she?" Lizzie smiled brightly, and gave him a gentle push. "Go. The torture will soon cease."

            Almost breaking down in convulsions because of her touch, Gordo grinned weakly. "Yeah." He stared at her for what seemed like eternity. She raised her eyebrows, and gazed back at him thoughtfully, subconsciously chewing her bottom lip.

            "I don't think you're well, Gordo…" she began. "Your eyes are all glassy, and… Gordo! You're trembling!"

            "It's fine, Liz… I'm just feeling -,"

            But Lizzie had sprung up from the couch, strode over to her best friend, and pushed him back down on the couch with a determined shove. After wagging her finger threateningly, she had piled blankets on him, and forced him to lie down. Her hand was immediately pressed tenderly to his forehead, and her eyebrows became scrunched with concentration. Gordo closed his eyes, a brief smile flying subtly to his lips. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. 

            "There. Now, you stay here, Gordo," Lizzie told him, turning around quickly and striding to the kitchen.

            He grinned in elation, and folded his arms behind his head. He took a deep breath, and yawned comfortably.

            Sooner than expected, Lizzie walked back into the room, holding a thermometer in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. She grinned confusedly.

            "You on cloud nine, Gordo?" She sat down on the couch and put down the water. He immediately reddened in embarrassment.

            "Just thinking about… stuff," he replied, gladly accepting the water that Lizzie handed him. She gave him a sidelong glance, and twirled the thermometer between her fingers.

            "What kind of stuff?" she asked. Nonchalant, Gordo took a sip of the water and shrugged coolly.

            "Oh, just stuff stuff."

            Lizzie rolled her eyes. "You really are sick. Physically and mentally."

            "You would know, Lizzie," Gordo retorted, grinning. In response, she shoved the thermometer in his mouth. Gagging, Gordo began to cough unremittingly, holding his throat dramatically. Lizzie smirked and patted his head affectionately.

            "There you go, sweetheart," she cooed playfully, smiling smugly, "Now you can't talk to me."

            Gordo just smiled and settled back on the couch, emitting one last cough. She watched him intently, propping her head dreamily on her hand. Smiling absentmindedly, she rubbed her eyes and yawned. With that, she began to incline forward almost drunkenly, until her blonde-haired head was almost resting on Gordo's lap. Apprehensively, he gave her a gentle push, and leaned close to her.

            "You there, Lizzie?" Her eyes fluttered open, and she beamed.

            "Yup. I'm just a little tired right now…" She yawned again. Gordo tousled her hair, grinning.

            "Did you know when you yawn, it means your brain lacks oxygen?" he informed her, receiving a dark look in return. She rolled her eyes, grabbed his hand hastily, and attempted to tame her hair.

            "Gordo! I don't care how deprived of oxygen my brain is… I just want to sleep!" She scowled at his laugh. "It's not funny!"

            "Oh, but it is, Lizzie." He smiled widely, and Lizzie, with a startled jolt, realized how _cute _his smile was. She tilted her head to the side, staring at him in subtle disbelief. This was her best friend… she wasn't supposed to think his smile was attractive! It wasn't right to have mutual feelings for him _and _Ethan! Ethan. Gordo. Two totally different people… no mutual charisma. Lizzie abruptly slapped her head.

            Gordo's smile faded, until the tiniest flicker of amusement twinkled in his sapphire eyes. "Lizzie? Are you okay?" He moved closer, until his shoulder was touching hers. In the back of her mind, Lizzie wondered if he purposely invaded her personal space.

            Not that she minded…

            Lizzie's eyes widened at the thought, and a strange dizzying sensation flew unexpectedly to her stomach.

            She smiled fixedly at him, still lightheaded, "I'm just great… You know what sounds good though?"

            Gordo smiled and hugged her shoulders quickly. "Some popcorn and a movie?"

            "Close enough," replied Lizzie, softly smiling at him.

            Was it just her, or did she detect a trace of a blush on his face?

= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Beth = = = * * = = = =

            Beth inattentively picked up her ice water and held it to her lips. Her friends had invited her to come with them to the Digital Bean, but she had refused. Right now, she just needed some time alone. Sometimes her friends annoyed her. But other times, it was nice to have a monotonous posse following her around.

            She sighed. Sure, it was nice, but it got old. She needed more.

            Beth let her finger slide over her misted glass. Yes, more would be nice.

            Glaring angrily at the glass of water, she stood up and began to pace once more. Her mind was reeling. She felt as if she were suffocating in someone's wake… why did she feel this way? Beth's freshly manicured nails dug deeply into the palm of her hand, and a red streak soon appeared on her palm.

Hands on hips, she spun around.

"What is up with that David guy?!" she finally asked of the silent room, her mouth twitching in irritation as it always did when she was frustrated or angry, "Ugh! He's so… annoying!" She frowned and pursed her lips. 

It wasn't the way he talked to her that made her confused.

It was just him.

            Beth hit her fist on the countertop. "He's egocentric, and arrogant, and irritating…" She sat down, and sighed, tilting her head backwards so that her eyes were looking at the door behind her. "Yes, irritating. And overly smart."

            She flipped her head forward in exasperation, and her blonde hair spilled across her shoulders.

= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Lizzie = = = * * = = = =

            "Ah… this is better!" she said tiredly, pulling the blanket over herself and Gordo. He and she stared across the room at the black, blank, screen. Soon, Gordo looked down at his best friend, who was gazing aimlessly at the television.

            "Lizzie?" he asked, gently pushing her shoulder again, "Aren't you going to turn on the TV?"

            She blinked. "Oh… OH!" Embarrassed, she jumped up quickly, ran to the television and turned it on, and sprinted back to her spot next to Gordo. He grinned, and raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

            "Um… Liz? VCR?"

            Lizzie laughed. "I, at least, remembered that. This is what remotes are for." She leaned back comfortably, put her feet up on the coffee table, and lifted the remote control in the air, pressing a few buttons. Gordo chuckled softly. She had a way of being cute even when she wasn't even trying.

            She definitely wasn't trying now.

            Why would _she _choose flirt with him, of all people?

            Laughing acidly to himself, he tried to focus on the previews. Lizzie, he noticed, was grinning slightly as she always did when she watched a movie for the millionth time; she always believed that if she watched it enough times, it could possibly turn out differently. Gordo had always laughed at her, especially when this idea was tried on "Titanic".

            The ship sank: end of story.

            Gordo sighed with contentment, and Lizzie looked over at him with a half exasperated, half affectionate expression playing across her facial features. She smiled, and hugged her knees.

            "Gordo?" she asked suddenly, "Do you want me to get popcorn? I know you're feeling weird…"

            He shrugged. "I'm better now."

            "Oh!" Lizzie looked bewildered. "Okay…"

            Stretching his arms, Gordo walked into the kitchen. He pulled out a bag of popcorn, and threw it carelessly into the microwave, setting to timer for five minutes. He leaned casually by the countertop, mulling restlessly over his thoughts.

            What _had _Miranda said? "_Just talk to her." _

            Gordo groaned inwardly. Oh yes. He could talk… but how? Gordo sighed. How to confess a secret, knowing what kind of bombshell would drop? If Lizzie knew he liked – no, loved – her, and she didn't return those feelings, how would it change their current friendship? Would Lizzie pity him? Would she feel awkward around him? All Gordo ever wanted was her trust and love… if he bargained for more, and lost everything - Gordo felt his head hang - he would be heartbroken.

            _"Just talk to her."_

 But, just as Gordo was beginning to doubt himself, Miranda's wise words echoed endlessly in his head; spinning out of control; forming sentences that could possibly woo Lizzie into a romantic relationship.

            Gordo inhaled deeply. "Knowing my luck," he muttered to himself, "I'll probably have a wooing disorder."

= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Beth = = = * * = = = =

Beth pursed her lips angrily, and jumped off the couch. "I cannot _deal _with this anymore!" She gritted her teeth together. "That geek is driving me insane!" Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she began to walk towards the door, throwing on her coat.

            "Mom!" she called, "I'm going to the DB!"

            Jo McGuire appeared from around the corner, and put her hands on her hips. "Young lady, you are not going anywhere. Remember? You're grounded."

            Beth groaned, and set her jaw. "Sorry," she spat, not sounding sorry at all, "I forgot."

            Jo moved closer to her, a softer expression returning to her eyes. "Honey, do you need to talk about something? You've been really distant lately…"

            "You're always butting into my life!" Beth exploded, a fire building up inside her, "I can't do anything without you…you… ruining it!"

            Her mother sighed. "Beth, I'm really sorry…"

            "I'm not a baby, Mom! I'm fourteen years old!"

            "I know…"

            Beth shook her head. "No. You know what? You don't know anything." She glared. "STAY OUT OF MY LIFE!"

            It was Jo's turn to stare fiercely at her daughter. "You're still grounded, no matter how loud you yell."

            "Ugh! You're so difficult!" Beth stormed up to her room. "I HATE YOU!"

            Jo's kindhearted eyes followed Beth's retreating back. "I love you."

* * * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * * *

Author's notes: Oooh, interesting. Looks like Beth's got family problems. *puts hand to mouth* Oops, I shouldn't tell you anything! *grins* I love to give you guys weird endings, cause that's just me.

This story is gonna be *long*… at least I think so. It's going to be pretty interesting. How is Lizzie's life going to turn out? How is Beth's life going to turn out? It may be different than you think. *grins*

Anyway, that's all I'm going to say on the subject. For now. Muahahahaha….

Review, review, review! TTFN!

~ Tic-Tac

Btw, "Titanic" doesn't belong to me, just if you were wondering. *grins*

* * * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * * 


	4. Chapter four

* * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * * *

Bonjour mes amies!

Once again, I thank all of you for your heartwarming reviews! Gracias! It really means a lot to me.

Well, I have nothing else to say now… so, I'll just go on my way… *slowly backs up*

Forward and out!

Oh, by the way, I made a mistake (*gasp*), in the last chapter. Beth and Lizzie are fifteen, not fourteen. Oops.

* * * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * * 

= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Lizzie = = = * * = = = =

"Popcorn?" asked Lizzie as Gordo sat down next to her on the couch.

            "Check."

            "Blankets and pillows?"

            "Check."

            "Caffeine-crammed soda drinks?"

            Gordo grinned. "Check."

            "Best friend?"

            Unanimously, they said, "Check!"

            Shaking his head in amusement, Gordo shifted the popcorn bowl to his lap and began to munch. They had been doing this routine for as long as they could remember. It was an idea that had transpired to Lizzie more than ten years earlier, after seeing Gordo always worrying about losing something. He had made lists over and over again, trying to calm his nerves. But now, it was more of a movie-time tradition - nothing more than a habit.

            Lizzie snatched the popcorn from his hands. "Tsk, tsk." She wagged her finger menacingly at him. "Not until the movie starts!"

            Sinking lower into the couch, Gordo crossed his arms across his chest.

            "Fine," he said, glowering. Lizzie's ######### laughter resounded throughout his body, and he couldn't help but smile reluctantly.

            "Here," said Lizzie, "Lift up your head."

            Gordo did as he was told, and she slipped a pillow underneath.

            "Thanks." He smiled, and with his fingernail, picked out the telltale kernel husks from his teeth.

= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Beth = = = * * = = = =

            "My life," Beth hissed to herself, dropping gracelessly to the floor, "Is crap."

            She crossed her arms, and ran her hands along her cold, shivering shoulders. Beth tugged at her hair. It was an old habit of hers, dating back years. Her mother told her to stop ("By my age, you'll be bald, Beth,"), but she couldn't quit. It was a nervous habit, a close cousin of the cracking of knuckles, or the sucking of a thumb. It was almost calming to Beth, despite the horrible pain.

            But it drove her mother crazy.

            Beth buried her head in her hands, refusing to cry, but feeling the burning sensation in her throat prying at her emotions.

            "Dinner!" A yell from downstairs. Beth took a shuddering inhalation of breath, and walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

            Her mother barely even glanced her way. "Dinner is on the table, sweetheart."

            Reluctantly, Beth pulled out a chair and sat down. She reached across the table and grabbed a carrot stick. Jo strode to the table set for two, her eyes straying ever so slightly on the dinner (or lack of it) that Beth dumped on her plate.

            "So, how are you?" Jo asked carefully, trying to make conversation. Her trembling hand rested on the ladle of the chicken noodle soup. Beth just crunched on her carrot stick, apparently deep in thought.

            "Does it really matter?" she drawled, resuming her normal curt manner, "I mean, you don't seem to care anyway."

            Jo flinched. "Beth, I care."

            "Oh, really?" Beth retorted, heat rising to her cheeks, "You don't know anything about my life!"

            "What do you mean?" Jo was a strange calm.

            Angry tears ran down Beth's face, and she grabbed a piece of broccoli to hide the uncharacteristic hush. "Never mind."

            More silence.

            "Beth…" Jo started nervously, "Listen to me…"

            "You have no idea…" Beth prodded the broccoli portion with her fork, "What… I go through. So don't try and tell me what to think or do or feel."

            "The school counselor -,"

            "To hell with the school counselor! She doesn't believe me… You don't believe me…"

            "They caught you and your friends with marijuana, Beth!"

            Beth just glared, and Jo took a deep breath. "Elizabeth, honey, please… I'm trying not to make this a big deal… You made a mistake…"

            "You really think…" Beth puffed up defensively, "That I made a mistake like that?!"

            Jo cleaned her fogged-up spectacles with a handkerchief from her pocket. "Beth, I don't want to make an inaccurate accusation… It's just, you've been… distant."

            "Ho, ho! Now I'm distant?" Beth completely lost control. "I don't talk to you, Mother, because I'm fine without you! My friends can make me happy!" Beth bit on her tongue, taking a shuddering inhalation, as if she were sealing her fate. "I can count on my friends."

            Jo was silent, unsure of what to say or do.

            "Listen," Beth went on, slowly calming herself, "I don't need motherly guidance. I don't need advice." Her eyes averted from her mother's face. "I don't need help."

            Tears brimmed in Jo's eyes.

            Nonchalantly, Beth's eyes found Jo's. "I'm really sorry I'm not perfect." She blinked, her black lashes illuminated against her pale skin. "I'm sorry that your only child turned out to be a failure."

            Jo's heart reached out to her daughter, but she was already gone. In the distance, a door was slammed.

            Only then did she lean forward over the table and sob.

= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Lizzie = = = * * = = = =

            "Okay, now here we go!" Lizzie announced cheerfully. She clicked on the television. "Voila!"

            Gordo laughed. "You're so full of yourself, Liz," he told her, smiling. She rolled her eyes.

            "I've heard it's a proven fact that men have egos the size of Texas!" She stuck out her tongue and giggled. Gordo watched her, grinning. His eyes wandered over her pretty features, noticing the little dimple in her right cheek when she smiled, or the way her eyes twinkled merrily when she was amused. She had no makeup on, and to Gordo, it just elucidated her natural, innermost beauty.

            She leaned closer to Gordo, so that he could see inside her hazel orbs, feel the hot, misty breath on his face and neck. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart race quickened. "Gordo," she whispered softly, "As interesting as my face is, I think you might want to watch the movie." She grinned, backed herself up, and sat hunched on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

            Crestfallen and embarrassed, Gordo blushed and followed her gaze to the television screen.

            Lizzie was completely tuned in to the movie, as always, seemingly transfixed with the characters and their uniqueness. The Titanic was one of those movies that could make her smile, bring pools of tears to her eyes, and then cause her to lock herself in the bathroom for ten minutes straight, sobbing unremittingly about Jack's unfortunate and infamous death. Even now, watching it for the fifth time, she couldn't help but sigh at the beautiful romance kindling between Jack and Rose. In her perspective, it was perfect in every way.

            Subconsciously, Lizzie relaxed her head on Gordo's shoulder. Her hair flowed down the nape of his neck.

            Gordo tried to act nonchalant. 'Oh yeah, my best friend's head is resting on my shoulder. No biggie.' But no matter how hard he tried, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, beads of sweat wouldn't stop falling from his brow, and his heartbeat wouldn't decrease to a normal human pace. Her angelic face gazed dazedly up at him, partially smiling, partially asleep. In her eyes, Gordo could see his love-struck face gazing obediently back at her. He reached out a hand and cupped her chin in his palm, and Lizzie sighed contentedly, snuggling closer to him. Her eyes closed. 

            Gordo could see her luscious lips, coated with an extra layer of lip-balm, shining just a foot away. And then, face still cradled tenderly in his hand, she was inches away… centimeters…

            'Oh my God. What am I doing?' was his thoughts, lips centimeters away from contact. Lizzie's eyes fluttered open, and she stared wide-eyed at her best friend. Clearly words failed her.

            In a trance, she turned her head, just as Jack and Rose shared their first kiss, hands intertwined, smiles barely visible, distorted by the salty sea spray.     

* * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * * *

Gawsh! I'm so sorry this took so ding dang long! Phooey on me, I know.

Oh yeah, btw, I would really hate to see any reviews telling me how to illustrate Beth's "depression". Okay? Personally, I have a couple of friends who are going through this horrible phase in their life, and I would appreciate not seeing any reviews that contradict my story's "true facts". Thank you!

All I can say is: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, and I'm sorry for not updating for a long while. Again. *sigh* I'm so busy it's not even funny.

Please review, and I don't know what else to say… *sigh* My brain has run out of things to converse with. *grins*

Love to all!

~Tic-Tac

* * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * * *


	5. Chapter five

* * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * * *

**A/N: **I'm having serious writer's block for my other stories, and I feel REALLY bad now, 'cause I made you guys wait so long for this chapter… Ah! Everything's tumbling down… *sigh*

Oh, btw, I placed a bet with my friend Sorina about Harry Potter couples. Please tell me who you think will be together!! Harry and Hermione or Hermione and Draco? I, personally, am a full H/Hr shipper, but that doesn't mean I don't respect your opinions. Even if you know the littlest amount of Harry Potter, tell me who you believe is best. Thanks! I'm going to do a poll. LOL.

Please review, and have a great day! Happy VERY belated Halloween!

Love,

~Tic-Tac

Ps: The Ring freaked me out! I saw it on Halloween. That is one creepy movie. But my friends got mad at me because I was laughing during the movie Darkness Falls… lol… the Tooth Fairy will get you! LOL!

Pss: I accidentally had the date wrong for this whole time… in this story so far, it's March 2006; that way they're 15.

= = = = = = March, 2006 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Beth = = = * * = = = =

She trudged down the stairs. Her feet felt as heavy as lead, and she had a nervous tic in her left cheek. Lack of sleep had left shadows of darkness under her watery eyes, and her wrinkled forehead kept her face in a permanent frown. It was safe to say that she had once been a beautiful child, and in her own way still was, but her aura kept most people away, and in another way, drew them to her like moths to a patch of light.

Beth reached up her shaking hand and grabbed the cylindrical container of Ibuprofen. Her headache raging, she gulped down two of the tablets, not bothering to pour herself some water. Then she sat down at the kitchen table and held her face in her hands.

"I didn't mean to. I swear…" She began, partially for her own benefit, partially for whoever was listening. "I didn't know what it was…"

Beth didn't expect anyone to hear her confessions. She didn't expect anyone to care. It was like talking to an inanimate object. One could get some feeling of satisfaction by venting, but on the other hand, it was pointless. And Beth felt like the only thing that would listen to her was, in fact, inanimate…

It had been a beautiful, bright day. The sun was shining, the clouds rolling across the sky. Beth and her friends had been out in the back of the school, talking. During those precious moments, Beth had felt in-control of her life. But then it all crumbled down into the earth.

She had seen Kate take out the napkin. She had seen her smile. The smell was overpowering.

Kate opened the napkin, and Beth saw the grayish mixture inside. Then, all around, her friends had pulled out cigarettes.

She had smoked it. Again. And again.

She couldn't stop.

 = = = = = = March, 2006 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Lizzie = = = * * = = = =

            Lizzie paused the movie and jumped out of her seat. Her heart going a million beats per minute, she motioned towards the front door. "I-I need to go."

            Taken aback, Gordo scrambled off of the couch, nearly knocking over the popcorn bowl in his haste. "Listen, Lizzie, I can explain…"

            She backed away, shaking her head. Then, without another word, she flung open the door and ran out into the night.

            Her feet were running away: away from her house, away from the warmth, away from Gordo. Her tennis shoes made only a soft patter on the sidewalk, but her heart, magnified, could have woken up the whole neighborhood with a single beat. But she ran on until her legs felt like stretched rubber, and her lungs were gasping desperately for oxygen. Sweat poured down her forehead in buckets of steam, and then froze upon reaching her chin. She felt faint and dehydrated. Pulled and tugged to her limit, like an aged, dilapidated string.

             She couldn't have stayed in that house even if someone had paid her.

She tried to go on, to get farther away, but her body collapsed. Unsteadily, she dropped to her knees.

Lizzie, on any other circumstance, would have cried. Instead, however, she just stared eerily at the house in front of her and shivered in response to the cold night air. Deep in the depths of her mind, Lizzie knew why she overreacted… but she refused to investigate. Her true feelings were hidden, and anger and resentment piled inside her stomach. It felt like iron so cold it was hot, growing and spreading throughout her entire body. She was brainwashed by her own mind.

"You bastard!" she cried out. "Why?!"

The sound of puffing breath and pounding shoes reached her ears, and Lizzie attempted to pull herself off the ground. But she tumbled back down again, as a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist and held her securely. She screamed frantically, and thrashed around, kicking and punching her attacker. Finally he let go, and she began to walk forward, limping just slightly, her muscles strained and spent.

"Get away from me!"

He ran after her. "Lizzie! Please! Let me explain!"

She wheeled around to face him, and he jogged up to her, breathing in through his gaping mouth. "Please wait." His voice was barely a whisper.

It was as if she were held in place by invisible ropes. She couldn't move, and her eyes wouldn't leave his face. Even her quick tongue was silenced.

He stepped closer to her and held out a coat. "Here. You left this at the house."

She took it from him, and wrapped herself in it. It was warm, and felt wonderful against her chilled body. "Thanks," she responded shortly. He nodded.

The two friends began walking next to each other. An uncomfortable silence hovered around them, and their breath rose in pillars from their mouths. Lizzie decided that the weather was uncommonly cold, especially for spring.

"It's cold tonight, huh?" It was Gordo who spoke first. She pulled the coat around her body snugly, acknowledging him. The houses began to extinguish their inside lights until each home was pitch black. Lizzie could only see Gordo because of the streetlamps.

He turned to her in the darkness. "Look. I'm sorry. Please don't be too angry..."

She just watched him, and the nervousness in his stomach was almost overpowering. He could feel it lurch forward uncomfortably. "I saw some cocoa back your house I can make. You look cold." He was pleading with his body language.

She stared into his blue eyes for a second, then began walking towards her house.

Gordo handed her the mug of hot chocolate and sat down at the other end of the lumpy sofa. He watched her as she drank slowly, pressing the mug to her chapped lips. The steaming liquid sloshed down her throat and into her waiting stomach, and Lizzie shivered - the sensation finally fulfilling the need she had been subconsciously craving. She sighed.

"Thanks Gordo," she said. Then she set the mug down on the TV tray.

He smiled wearily. "No problem. I had to get you home somehow."

Her hands rubbed together uncomfortably. "Yeah… about that." She glanced at him. "I don't know what came over me." She narrowed her eyes, thinking back. "I felt so… strange… you know? Like an overwhelming darkness had grabbed onto me…" Her head was throbbing. "Oh, I don't know… Everything was out of control…"

They sat in silence again, though this time it wasn't empty – it was full of warmth and understanding.

Gordo looked on with regret, then said, "I'm sorry. About what happened earlier."

She just smiled sadly and touched his shoulder. "You're a guy," she said, as if that explained everything.

= = = = = = March, 2006 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Beth = = = * * = = = =

            "What's up, Beth?" her friend Mandy asked, blowing onto her garnished nails.

            Beth smiled. "Nothing, except that my mother talked to the school counselor."

            Mandy laughed. "No kidding! You have shadows under your eyes. Did she give you 'the talk'?"

            Rolling her eyes, Beth responded, "Yeah. I can't believe how incredibly horrible she is. It's always this and that, and 'Beth, you have no morals!' I'm sick of her." She didn't mention the discovery of marijuana.

            Mandy nodded and inspected her nails. "So what? You have _us_. And you only have one life. Live it."

            She smiled meaningfully and pulled Beth over to her large group of waiting friends.

= = = = = = March, 2006 = = = = = = =

= = = * * = = = Lizzie = = = * * = = = =

            Lizzie and Gordo were lying on the couch opposite each other, their feet touching. Lizzie's favorite blanket covered both of them, and they were both sleepy and blissfully happy, perhaps having to do with the two mugs of hot chocolate they both had gulped down. After Lizzie's outbreak, the two friends had made up, and everything had seemed to be back to normal. Lizzie had deliberately steered away from talking about it, and Gordo was quite happy to oblige.

            She kept thinking about what happened, and why she had overreacted like that. But it didn't seem to make sense. She had been perfectly happy and teasing earlier that evening, and then she just turned into an out-of-control maniac. Shifting her body to a more comfortable position, she chewed on her bottom lip.

            Suddenly, she came to an awful conclusion. What if she was going crazy? What if she was some sort of dangerous freak? Her breath caught in her throat. If it hadn't been for Gordo, she would have screamed and yelled like that forever. She held her head. It was a paradox. Gordo caused her to become out-of-control, then, at the brink of doing something she probably would have regretted, he brought her back to herself.

            At the end of the couch, Gordo stirred, and Lizzie worried even more. She was dragging him down with her. He was too loyal to tell her that he couldn't be her friend anymore. He was too polite - too compassionate to hurl that kind of hurt towards another human being.

            Her throat constricted uncomfortably. Maybe her newfound madness is just another reason for him to leave her.

            Lizzie couldn't stand being that close to him. Quietly and carefully, she untangled her feet from his and slipped from the woolen blanket. She began to tiptoe away from her best friend. As soon as she reached the kitchen, she collapsed against the refrigerator. Her heart felt torn apart.

            Why did this feel like the worst pain of all?

            But she did not cry. Crying would admit that this hellish nightmare would happen.

            Suddenly, footsteps. Lizzie turned around.

            Gordo was standing behind her, his eyes glassy; his hair disheveled.

            They stared at each other. Gordo forced a small grin.

            "Up for more hot chocolate?"

            Lizzie felt an overflowing gratification run through her body at his statement, and before she knew what she was doing, she was running towards him. She flung her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him backwards into the kitchen cabinets. And her head was snuggled comfortably into his shoulder when she finally realized how much she appreciated him - how much he meant to her. His arms snaked around her lower back and held her close.

            The pain was gone. And it was replaced with the best feeling of all.


End file.
